Santier
by VideoGameGuy99
Summary: My interpretation of the back story of the weapon in Dark Souls 2 called Santier's Spear. Rated T, cause I'm not taking chances.


Santier

*NOTE: This is only my speculation of how the event happened. Since there are no proven theories or reliable sources that can give me viable information, this fanfiction based on the back story of the weapon acquired in Dark Souls 2, Santier's Spear, is entirely theory, and is not a real event that happened in the Dark Souls lore. Also note that this is my second fanfiction, and may not be the best. With that said, please enjoy, and feel free to leave comment, a really do appreciate them.*

The wanderer had been travelling for days now, however that was of little concern. The passage of time is never an issue for an Undead. However, the wanderer had grown weary of his travels. His feet went sore in his leather boots from walking. His steel plate helmet became musky and hot. His knight armor had weighed down his shoulders. His misery was to be dismissed, for the journey of an Undead held no comfort.

For days now, the wanderer, who had traveled through these lands for so long, his memories have grown hazy, hiked though forests, mountains, ruins, and any place that could potentially keep his goal from him. But even the wanderer's goal has become distant in his mind. The only thing he could hold onto was his spear…

The wanderer had a spear, a powerful spear, strapped to his back. It was almost twice as tall as an average man when stood up. When he used this spear, he spun it around like a twin blade, slashing through enemies like a whirlwind. The wanderer had a name for his spear, but it had been long forgotten. The spear had been a guide for his battles through the land. With it, the wanderer fought Undead, demons, monsters, and all forms of threats to his journey. Merchants were willing to pay anything to get their hands on it, and warriors on the brink of madness even fought him for it. However, the Undead held onto it, for without it, he would be lost in the land that would swallow him whole.

At one point, the Undead came across a dark place, deep underground. He couldn't recall how he had gotten there, but if there was something that could help him in his journey without rest, he would gladly take it. So the Undead travelled through, hoping to find something that might spark the memory of what he was after in the first place. However, the stone walls did only isolate him, and drove him further into madness. The lack of light made him afraid, the lack of sound made him anxious, and the lack of companionship made him aggressive. When he heard a sound, perhaps the sound of him stepping into a puddle, or the sound of animals that had taken refuge there, he pulled out his spear, swinging it wildly about, hoping to defend himself from the nonexistent threat.

Finally, the wandering Undead found a light. A light shone from a hole in the ceiling, and under that light he saw a single statue. It was covered in vines, showing it to be incredibly old. It seemed almost alive at it stared straight forward into the eternal darkness. It was a statue of a man in armor, holding a great sword with its tip buried into the ground. On the pedestal it was kneeling on, was an engraving with a single word written on it: "Santier"

The Undead had lost a vast majority of his sanity, and the statue under the light seemed to him to be a threat. The wanderer wanted that light, he wanted to sit under that light forever, and finally rest his weary soul. He envied the statue, so much so that he pulled out his spear and struck it atop the head. Screaming at the statue, the wanderer struck it again, and again, and again. Right as the Undead was about to break down and give up, the statue tilted its head downward.

"You strike me, Undead. You have trespassed upon this holy place, and you have disturbed the peace of the creatures that have taken refuge here. You will pay the price." The statue pulled its great sword from the pedestal, and lifted it onto his shoulder, slowly walking towards the lone Undead. The Undead, no longer caring of death charged towards the massive thing known as Santier.

The battle was evenly matched. The Undead could easily dodge the slow and predictable attacks of Santier, yet Santier could resist any hits taken upon him, for his stone flesh made him almost invincible. The fight lasted for what seemed like days, however the wanderer had a trick up his sleeve. At one point, he baited the statue into an attack, and swung his spear with all his might towards the massive statue's legs. The statue lost its balance and it began to fall forward. The wanderer planted his spear into the ground, blade facing upward, towards the statue's head. Santier fell onto the spear, and it impaled him a good way through the spear.

The battle was over, and the statue was no longer moving. The wanderer attempted to pull his spear from the statue, but only managed to pull off the head of Santier along with the spear, making it near useless. But the Undead no longer cared. He let the spear, still attached to the statues head, fall to the ground, and the weary traveler sat down and let the light shine on him. The wanderer finally closed his eyes, letting his body rot with the rest of the world, never to wake up again.

Within the Doors of Pharros, a lone Undead, on a journey without rest, discovered a chest behind a wall that could only be opened when a Pharros' Lockstone was placed into a slot beneath a pool of water. Within the chest, the Undead found a spear, with the head of a large statue held in place near the blade. The spear seemed nearly useless, as the head of the statue threw the spear off balance. But after a bit of experimentation, the Undead broke off the head on the spear, putting the weapon back to its former glory. And that spear carried the Undead through his journey, and with the spear, the Undead claimed his throne.


End file.
